Well, I guess we can conclude that the DemProgs have conceded the 2020 election.
Well, I guess we can conclude that the DemProgs have conceded the 2020 election.
THE MOST OF IT by Robert Frost
He thought he kept the universe alone;
For all the voice in answer he could wake
Was but the mocking echo of his own
From some tree-hidden cliff across the lake.
Some morning from the boulder-broken beach
He would cry out on life, that what it wants
Is not its own love back in copy speech,
But counter-love, original response.
And nothing ever came of what he cried
Unless it was the embodiment that crashed
In the cliff’s talus on the other side,
And then in the far distant water splashed,
But after a time allowed for it to swim,
Instead of proving human when it neared
And someone else additional to him,
As a great buck it powerfully appeared,
Pushing the crumpled water up ahead,
And landed pouring like a waterfall,
And stumbled through the rocks with horny tread,
And forced the underbrush–and that was all.
NEW Real World Address for Complaints, Brickbats, and Donations
Beneath the Aegean
When all Earth’s seas shall Levitate,
Dark shawled within the skies,
Upon our eyes will Starfish dance
Their waltz of Blind surprise.
The sun will Rise within wine Dark
As Argonauts imbibed,
Whose drunken arms embrace that sleep
Where Phaeton’s horses Stride.
Upon all of Earth’s wind-sanded shores,
As dolphins Learn to soar,
All we once were on the land
Shall be sealed behind the door
Of Ivory and Chastened Gold,
That the Mystery solved complete
Shall never til the seas’ Long fall
Wake mariners from their sleep.
— Van der Leun
Your Say
Song of Myself
I CELEBRATE myself, and sing myself,
And what I assume you shall assume,
For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you.
I loafe and invite my soul,
I lean and loafe at my ease observing a spear of summer grass.
My tongue, every atom of my blood, form’d from this soil, this
air,
Born here of parents born here from parents the same, and their
parents the same,
I, now thirty-seven years old in perfect health begin,
Hoping to cease not till death.
— Walt Whitman
Shall I part my hair behind? Do I dare to eat a peach?
I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach.
I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each.
I do not think that they will sing to me.
I have seen them riding seaward on the waves
Combing the white hair of the waves blown back
When the wind blows the water white and black.
We have lingered in the chambers of the sea
By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown
Till human voices wake us, and we drown.
— The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock by T. S. Eliot
SPRING
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alleged, if, unnamed sources, as quoted by, etc., etc.
Clearing the dead leaves out the bed of my truck yesterday, I had to move the spare tire laying in the middle. A mamma forest mouse went scurrying from underneath with 4 tiny babies suck to her belly. She ran to the tailgate which was shut, and squeezed through a place where the edge of the bedliner stuck out from the side of the bed, and disappeared. Unfortunately one of the babies became dislodged and lay there writhing with closed eyes. I stood there watching. After a minute mama poked her head out and looked about frantically. Side to side, up and down, then at the baby laying about 6 inches away. With my big self looming up above. What to do? WHAT TO DO??? She darted out and touched the baby with her nose than ran behind the liner, turned around and stuck her haed out again. She was vibrating with nervousness. She eased forward, then pulled back. Over an over she did this. Finally, she ran out, risking all, grabbed the baby with her mouth and ran back behind the liner, never to be seen again. Later, I unconnected the bedliner from the wall and peered down in there. Hundreds of acorns had been accumulated. 1 acorn per 1 mouse per trip. The effort to gather those nuts was unfathomable. Her nervousness at being disattached to her baby was unmistakable and thus her future actions were inestimable. She will do wahetevr it takes, even risk her life, to get her baby.
The dems are the mama mouse and they will do whatever it takes to regain the whitehouse, even risk their lives, and yours. If mama mouse had lunged at me I would have swatted her in mid air, killing her. I don’t need a 2nd case of rabies, once is enough. You may have to swat some american communists. Can you, and will you, do it when the time comes?
This shit is getting frequent. 2 presidents before, and then 2 in my lifetime, have borne the political brunt of impeachment: Nixon and Clinton. Nixon short-circuited his (presidential authority was bigger than himself so he manned up and resigned) and Clinton (not too big for anything – harrrumphff! – ) yet profited by getting reelected after his impeachment stopped short (another pun!) of removal (oh, I am cracking myself up).
Trump’s impeachment, if it materializes, follows on the greatest political animus in our lifetimes. WTF did Biden and his on get up to in Ukraine? While Putin was breaking down the front door, Hillary, Obama, and Biden where entering the back (stop with the jokes already). It seems that Ukraine has become the tart of Europe, and I don’t mean a sweet one. I’m not the authority on this, but I recall some of Hillary’s corrupt dossier dealings began in Ukraine, didn’t they? She went after her election opponent with the smelly fishwrap that eventuated into the dismally failing Russian collaboration hoax.
Biden had no such mission; his was pretty much monetary rape in the Ukraine. If Trump pressed for the investigation of Biden’s dorky, smarmy offput son, is that the crime they dems want to press? Looks specious and a good lawyer could drive a Mack truck through the holes in that. Are the dems after 2 birds with one stone? They wish to kill both Biden and Trump at the same time?
Wha’s the best popcorn and adult beverage to get for this shitshow? As I recall, after Clinton’s impeachment his base rode that into an election success for the old deviant. If I read Americans correctly, they still care somewhat for policy; Ukraine is a tergle of smelly something on the stage of world politics. Trump’s Ukraine policies are sounder than any other. Crunch, munch, slurpppp. This is starting to get fun.
@Casey Klahn
Mr. Klahn, Bill’s impeachment came near the end of his second term in office, although his popularity did increase during that process.
It would seem that Mr. Trump’s popularity is already increasing…
And as for you sniper…. here’s a previous mouse meditation:
On Turning up in Her Nest with the Plough, November, 1785
Wee, sleeket, cowran, tim’rous beastie,
O, what a panic’s in thy breastie!
Thou need na start awa sae hasty,
Wi’ bickerin brattle!
I wad be laith to rin an’ chase thee
Wi’ murd’ring pattle!
I’m truly sorry Man’s dominion
Has broken Nature’s social union,
An’ justifies that ill opinion,
Which makes thee startle,
At me, thy poor, earth-born companion,
An’ fellow-mortal!
I doubt na, whyles, but thou may thieve;
What then? poor beastie, thou maun live!
A daimen-icker in a thrave
’S a sma’ request:
I’ll get a blessin wi’ the lave,
An’ never miss ’t!
Thy wee-bit housie, too, in ruin!
It’s silly wa’s the win’s are strewin!
An’ naething, now, to big a new ane,
O’ foggage green!
An’ bleak December’s winds ensuin,
Baith snell an’ keen!
Thou saw the fields laid bare an’ waste,
An’ weary Winter comin fast,
An’ cozie here, beneath the blast,
Thou thought to dwell,
Till crash! the cruel coulter past
Out thro’ thy cell.
That wee-bit heap o’ leaves an’ stibble
Has cost thee monie a weary nibble!
Now thou’s turn’d out, for a’ thy trouble,
But house or hald,
To thole the Winter’s sleety dribble,
An’ cranreuch cauld!
But Mousie, thou art no thy-lane,
In proving foresight may be vain:
The best laid schemes o’ Mice an’ Men
Gang aft agley,
An’ lea’e us nought but grief an’ pain,
For promis’d joy!
Still, thou art blest, compar’d wi’ me!
The present only toucheth thee:
But Och! I backward cast my e’e,
On prospects drear!
An’ forward tho’ I canna see,
I guess an’ fear!
I went to drive my truck this morning and my wife prohibited it.
Babies.
See, when the mama inadvertantly left one baby behind I txtd my wife and told her to come out to my truck and she did. She got all wobbly. Baby. When she heard through a female neighbor that another female neighbor way down the road that we don’t know, had a baby she ordered a bunch of outfits from amazon and hauled em down there. Babies.
This past summer our grad daughter turned 5, so my wife sent her 5 gifts. Last year, 4. She’ll always be a baby in my wifes eyes, even when she’s 30 years old. Same with our son though she has long stopped sending gift quantities equal to his age.
So for the first time ever, this afternoon I yanked the bedliner out of my truck to show her the mouse and babies were no longer there. Good idea actually cause it allowed me to clean out stuff that had been under there for who knows how long. So yes, bedliners work. That is, if you want the bed of your 30 year old truck to look 30 years newer then the rest of it.
As for mama mousey and the 4 kids? Don’t know. But I imagine one day I will see any of them in the workshop though I won’t be able to swear on it. See, racist that I am, they all look the same to me.
Bill: thank you. I’m happy if I can remember where my car keys are these days.
I meant “Steve”! See?